Coming Home
by BlueIvory
Summary: Jack didn't die in the shootout, though everyone thinks he did. Warning: mild slash of the Jack/Bobby persuasion


Jack got out of the cab in front of his mother's home. He sighed, seeing the changes to the front meaning it had been shot to shit in the shootout. It still shocked him that he had survived. For the past month since he'd woken up out of his coma he'd been suffering memory loss and seeing as his brothers didn't know he was alive, it was hard to get the memories back. But the doctor's had been right, it was only temporary. The first thing to come back had been Bobby telling him not to die on him.

Slowly, still limping, Jack made his way up the front steps and into the house.

"I can't do it, guys. Ma was bad enough, but our baby brother too? I tried, I really did, but I just can't do it. I let him get shot. I swore to protect him and I didn't and now look, he's six feet under and cold. You know how much he hates the cold," That was Bobby's voice but it sounded way too emotional to be Bobby.

"Bobby, you can't be serious! Think about it, man. Ma or Jack wouldn't want you to go out back and just shoot yourself like this. It's crazy!"

"Jerry, both of you have something else to live for. You've got your daughters and Camille, Angel's got Sofi."

Jack decided he'd heard enough. He walked straight into the living room, pulled Bobby's gun out of his hands, slapped him upside the head, and went to the kitchen to make a sandwich. Humming softly to himself he quickly made his sandwich and went back into the living room, leaving the gun on the kitchen counter.

Jack sat down on the chair and flicked on the TV. Mindlessly flicking through the channels, Jack waited for his brothers to say something. After ten minutes, he looked to see them starring at him, shock clear on their faces.

"Memory loss, otherwise I'd've been home sooner. That and I was in a coma for a month. Doc says my shoulder's completely healed now but I have to keep up with my physical therapy for my legs, hence the limping a few minutes ago," Here he turned and looked Bobby dead in the eyes. "And don't you EVER think about doing what you were just thinking of doing again."

"Jackie?"

"Yes Bobby?"

"I'm not imagining anything am I?"

"If you are, Jerry and Angel are having the same hallucinations and that's highly unlikely so I'd say no."

"Jack!" Immediately, Bobby was off of the couch and pulling Jack off the chair and into a fierce hug. "How?"

"They aren't sure, exactly. The doctor said I should've died. The bullet in my chest hit my lung and severed a main artery. They said it's a miracle I'm alive," He answered, turning now to hug his other two brothers.

"But you did die. I felt for your pulse and there wasn't one," Angel was confused.

"Yeah I did; for a few minutes anyway. All I remember of that, actually is Bobby yelling at me, 'don't you go anywhere near that damn light, ya fairy!' so I didn't," Jack shrugged. The three older Mercers laughed; it definitely sounded like something Bobby would say.

None of his brothers let Jack out of their sight all day that day, even with reassurances that he was fine and wasn't a baby that needed to be watched constantly. He did get them to tell him what had happened with Sweet and to Greene and Fowler.

That night was just like the nights in the hospital since he'd gotten his memories back, the only difference being he was at home in his own bed.

Bobby hurried into Jack's room to see him flailing on his bed, screaming. He wasn't saying a single word, just screaming continuously. "Jack! Jackie, wake up!" Bobby shook him.

Jack shot straight up into bed, panting. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up," He spoke when he caught his breath, looking up at Bobby then Angel who was standing in the doorway.

"You didn't mean to…. Jack, what were you dreaming?" Bobby asked.

"It's always the same. Has been since I remembered; the shootout," Jack answered, looking away from his brothers.

"Angel, go back to bed," Bobby stated, not looking away from Jack. "Jackie? Jack look at me," Jack looked up into his brother's face, but not his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Jack. That never should have happened to you. I should have protected you better and,…"

"Bobby, it's not your fault, okay? I'm the idiot that ran after the guy. I mean, I _saw _his mask when he threw the snowball at me. I should have known better than to do that," The two of them fell silent for a minute. "Bobby? Will you stay with me tonight?" Jack asked quietly.

Bobby starred at Jack for a minute, who looked away and started picking at his blanket. "Sure I can, Fairy."

Jack smiled, glad for once to hear the nickname. Bobby climbed into the bed beside him and spooned behind Jack, pulling the taller man against his chest. "Thanks Bobby."

"Sleep, Jackie," Bobby replied, though his grip tightened around Jack just a little.

Jack woke up the next morning and felt Bobby pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Damn it," Bobby muttered. Jack kept his eyes closed and pretended to still be asleep. "It's not right 'cause you're my brother but, I love you, Jack. I really, really love you," Bobby whispered.

"Love you too Bobby," Jack opened his eyes and looked up at his brother.

"Damn it! I owe Jerry five bucks now," Angel strode away from the open door at that point, hollering over his shoulder, "He'll probably come over so get your asses out of bed!"

**Author's note: This was just for fun really. Yes, it's mildly slashy even though I haven't written any yet. I have been reading quite a bit of it though. Hopefully, I'll be able to update my story soon, though it may take a while as I'm presently sick. Hope you enjoyed this!**


End file.
